


Reflections

by Anonymous



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Curufin is just full of Daddy issues, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Feanorincest, Kink Meme, M/M, Mirror Sex, PWP, Parent/Child Incest, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Silmarillion Kink Meme, Valar forgive but Fëanor/Son smut is just so fuckin' hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 12:19:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1550204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>Prompt Fill for the Silmarillion Kink Meme</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Original Prompt was:<br/>They love how much they look alike.<br/>+1 for calling each other "Curufinwe" in bed<br/>+100 for sex in front of mirrors</p><p>-----<br/>~A shameless 5k word Fëanorincest-PWP~<br/>Curufin gets another birthday present from Fëanor, but this time the present comes from his lover, not from his father</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflections

**Author's Note:**

> The elves are (unfortunately) not mine, they belong to J.J.R. Tolkien, no copyright infringement intended, no money is made from this work, it was written just for fun.  
> Both characters are of age (18+)

 

It was some days after Curufin’s birthday when the entire Fëanorian household had left to visit some distant relatives, only Fëanáro and his beloved son remained in the spacious house – Curufin had pretended to be sick earlier the day and Fëanáro had stated that he couldn’t leave the forge, too much work did await him there, important things which couldn’t wait. Of course, the real cause behind this charade was an entirely different one, but nobody else must ever know.

After he had heard that his family left the house, Curufin almost jumped out of his ‘sickbed’ and sneaked out of his chambers, walking along the corridor which would finally lead in the direction of Fëanáro’s forge, but it didn’t take long until he was stuck dead in his tracks.

Without warning strong arms wined around him, making it impossible for him to escape and within the blink of a second his dark eyes were covered with a piece of silken fabric and his hands were bound behind his back. Curufin had not only inherited his father’s looks but also a good amount of his temper and Fëanáro wanted to avoid at all costs that Curufin would be able to remove the blindfolds by himself, knowing how impatient his beloved son could become once in a while.

“What are you up to, Atya?” Curufin muttered in pure astonishment, he simply had not expected anything like this and was entirely caught off guard when the blindfolds were placed over his eyes.

“Don’t pretend that you don’t like a birthday surprise” his father stated with in a mixture of mock annoyance and seduction.

“I do! You know that I do” he said, trying to keep his voice calm, but inwardly Curufin was squeaking with delight but he didn’t want to show it openly, at least not yet.

“Of course I do know, Curvo - after all it’s not the first birthday we celebrate together!” Fëanáro chuckled whilst he lead his son along another hallway in the spacious house.                                                          

“But Atya!” the dark-haired Fëanorian explained “You already gave me a present on my actual birthday!” a puzzled expression swept over his handsome face.

“You are right, Curufin and I do hope you enjoy it. The shining dagger was a gift from your father….” he hesitated for a moment whilst he watched his beloved son tremble ever so slightly. Without much thought Fëanáro bridged the distance between them until his lips were only inches away from Curufin, whispering seductively, his breath ghosting over the tempting lips “…whereas this is from your lover” But he refrained to kiss him, mumbling to himself “not .. yet .. my dear”

Curufin froze as soon as he had heard those words, shivered in anticipation combined with a small amount of fear; Fëanáro was not always easy to handle, sometimes he was simply extraordinary capricious with a distinct amount of wickedness, his mood changed sometimes like the tides, from on top of the world, to down in the dumps within seconds – but there was no other elf who could read those subtle signs of his father like he could, mostly because his temper was not so different after all. As he felt his father’s fingers wander down his back the young Fëanorian was beyond excited and the fear soon gave way to pure excitement.

“Form my lover?” he whispered back in the same seductive voice. For outsiders and distant relatives it was always hard to tell who of them spoke when they were together, their voices were almost identical, only nuances were different.

“Oh I do wonder what that could be…” Curufin paused briefly, thinking what exactly his second birthday present could be and his voice switched back from seductive to demanding within the blink of an eye, growing impatient “Anyway! Take off the blindfolds, you know I want to see you and I want to see my birthday present – I want to see everything!” Curufin complained, muttering his protest as he was lead along the corridor leading to his father’s secret room at the end of the hall-way, their special room ever since they have started what was condemned between the Firstborn, what was called illicit and forbidden.

They were both long past the stage when they cared that somebody could call it ‘wrong’ what they did, too great was the pleasure they found in each other’s arms in clandestine meetings, savoring every occasion when they were undisturbed. They craved for each other, almost starved when nothing more than a brief touch of hands was possible, when they had to control their longing gazes at the dinner table.

Their closeness had led ever since to some puzzlement for many people, as did Curufin’s physical appearance and talent. In contrast to all his brothers, he had inherited his father's dark looks, the shining raven-hair, the distinct voice and the skill of gem crafting, they were so alike in body and mind – and they were in love with each other, in love with the other’s perfection, but forced to keep their insatiable longing the most guarded secret on earth.

They truly hated the fact that they could not compliment the other openly, show the affections they harbored, simply giving in to their longing - but there was no way out of the misery, they had to accept it – and they cherished each other all the more when they were alone.

Fëanáro never got tired to spoil his most beloved heir rotten and Curvo was beyond excited what his father had prepared this time, recalling vividly the rather naughty present from last year.

“Don’t be so impatient, Curufinwë!” Fëanáro snapped almost harshly “I will remove them in a minute – and I guarantee you, that you will have the perfect opportunity to marvel at your present shortly”

They wandered along the corridor for what seemed to be an eternity to Curufin, who hardly could control himself anymore, growing more impatient with every second they walked, muttering his protest constantly. The fact that his father had decided to ignore him only made it worse.

“Have you wrapped yourself in gift wrap this time?“ Curufin chuckled, the idea was simply hilarious but he doubted that his father would do such a foolish thing

“Don’t pretend that you wouldn’t like that!” Fëanáro smirked, gently caressing the tender buttocks through the restricting robe “But no, I have to disappoint you – I have not”

The younger elf simply shook his head, exclaiming “You NEVER disappoint me and you know it” And it was nothing but the truth, ever since they had become lovers he had never been disappointed by his father’s wicked ideas, Fëanáro did everything to keep their relationship happy and vibrant.

Shortly after they finally came to a halt, tue distinct sound of a key inside the keyhole could be heard and a sigh of relief left Curufin’s lips – he was growing utterly impatient indeed and despite the fact that he could not even see shades behind the blindfolds, the young elf knew fairly well which door it was that sprang open.

“Wait” the older elf whispered when Curufin made an attempt to step inside. Instead Fëanáro hushed into the room, and all his son could hear was the rustling of fabric and the treacherous sound of matches. It didn’t take long until the distinct scent of bee’s wax and roses escaped the chamber, tickling his nose in a most pleasant way. Those incenses made him tremble, especially the smell of roses was divine and they were his favorite flowers and he was beyond curious to find out what his father had prepared for him, demanding in a strong voice “Atya.. Please..”

As the blindfolds were finally removed, his mouth gasped wide open in astonishment “Atya!”

 

The entire room was decorated with flickering candles and a massive mirror stood on the opposite of the four poster bed which was covered with rather expensive silken sheets in the color of dark burgundy and on top of the sheets lay hundreds of rose-petals in the same shades of red. “It does highlight our dark hair, our ethereal beauty” Fëanaro simply explained as Curufin’s eyes rested on the silken sheets which he had never seen before. His eyes travelled from the bed along the walls and came to a sudden halt on a massive mirror in front of the bed. He turned his head slightly, watching his father with wide eyes, asking in a curious voice “And the mirror?”

With an almost predatory grin Fëanáro moved around him, encircling him with his grey eyes scanning every inch of the perfect body which lay hidden beneath his robe before he stopped behind him, leaning against Curvo’s back, pressing his already aroused body against him "I want you to see what I see, Curufinwë. You are beautiful, alluring … perfection. Watching you coming undone is as if I watch myself" Fëanáro whispered hoarsely over Curufin’s shoulder, right next to his pointy ear – a mischievous smile danced over his lips and was reflected by the mirror in front of them.

“I do wonder from whom I have inherited this perfect outer appearance?” Curufin chuckled ever so slightly, he simply couldn’t resist teasing his father with this, he never could – after all they looked like identical twins and were in love with this fact almost as much as they were in love with each other; somehow it spiced up their never boring relationship even further.

“Don’t you dare to tease me, my beautiful love!” Fëanáro laughed, seeing the sparkle in his lover’s dark grey eyes “I want that YOU see how you come undone under my caresses, Curufinwë and to see myself lost in passion with you, bringing you pleasure as no-one else could”

His skillful hands began to unbutton the dark robe, the flickering candle-light danced across his son’s raven hair which was glowing now in the darker shades of gold, and a perfect alabaster torso was revealed as the garment finally fell from Curufin’s shoulder to the floor, pooling around his feet.

“Oh how beautiful you are, like a marble statue, like a perfect creation of my sculpting” Fëanáro mused aloud with his head rested against Curufin’s shoulder, his words mere whispers as his fingers trailed over the muscular chest, down his abdomen, his grey eyes never left the reflection, studying every inch of the perfect body. A few strands of his own dark hair were falling across Curufin’s shoulders, brushing against the exposed nipples ever so slightly. Fëanor smiled, knowing that his lover’s nipples were extremely sensitive and his efforts were rewarded with almost shy moans. It didn’t take long until Curufin’s head fell back against his shoulder in the first subtle signs of pleasure, giving in to the loving caresses which were bestowed on his neck.

A genuine smile crossed Curufin’s face as he saw into the mirror; flickering candle-light danced over their perfect skin, painting their secret refuge into beautiful shades of gold and orange; the entire scenery almost took his breath away – numerous candles, the silken sheets and the countless rose-petals – Fëanáro must have spent half a day to decorate this room for him. “So you have brought me here to seduce me?” Curufin asked playfully under half-lid eyes, his entire body already quivering with excitement.

“Do I still have to? Do you want me to?” Fëanáro whispered hoarsely against the pointy ear with his lips only inches away from it; his fingers danced over the bulge in Curufin’s breeches brushing against the hard flesh ever so lightly until pleading moans escaped those perfect and tempting lips.

“Oh yes!” the younger elf breathed, his voice already carrying the distinct tone of need and desire “I have never watched myself being seduced and I will never tire of being seduced by you” Curufin looked up to see his father’s eyes gazing at him curiously, eyes filled with the searing shades of lust.

“Than your wish shall be granted my beloved” Fëanáro said, smiling genuinely and began to unlace the strings of the breeches. His skillful fingers brushed over the erection every once in a while for just a second and his caresses were rewarded each time with a pleading moan from those tempting lips of his son. His lust-darkened grey eyes never left the reflection, watching Curufin’s half-lid eyes which sparkled in anticipation and pure lust.

 _*Oh well*_ Fëanáro thought, almost absentmindedly, watching them in the mirror _*You are so beautifuly, Curufinw_ ë _– both in body and soul …. WE are so beautiful, especially when we are together, are we not? It is a shame that he have to hide, my love*_

Finally, the last garment came undone and fell soundlessly onto the wooden floor, eliciting numerous shivers in the younger elf when he heard the seductive voice against his ear again “So utterly beautiful you are .. and all mine, are you not?” the grip around his now freed arousal tightened and the young elf almost screamed upon the suddenly rough touch.

Curufin inhaled sharply, being almost lost for words - but after what seemed like an eternity he exclaimed “Atar! You know that I am!”

Fëanáro almost laughed, wondering that his son had never realized just HOW some elves – males and maidens alike – reacted to his outer appearance, to his alluring voice – it was the same way how they reacted to him. Fëanáro’s voice was deadly calm, observing his son closely through the reflection “Many have laid their eyes upon you, lusting after you recently, Curvo. Did you honestly never notice, my love? It is obvious and can be easily seen by the one who keeps a watchful eye on his most precious son!” the grey eyes sparkled dangerously.

Curufin was well aware of the furious jealously which burnt in his father’s soul ever since but he truly had never noticed nor was he interested in anything else than exactly what he shared with Fëanáro “All I want is you!” Curufin explained with a strong voice, adding more coyly his complain “Although I have to admit that I would like it more often!”

His father’s temper had ebbed upon his words of affection and his voice was soft again. Fëanáro smiled against his son’s perfect skin when he admitted “Ai! I have to admit that I feel the same, Curvo”

Fëanáro allowed his grey eyes to roam all over the now entirely naked body of the other, as Curufin wore nothing more than the Mithril pendant with a single ruby, the jewelry which his father had crafted some years ago for him. He had received it the day after they had confessed their feelings to each other, on the very day when they had first shared a night of passion in each other’s arms. Ever since, Curufin had never removed it, it was a constant reminder of the passion they shared in private when they had to restrict themselves, hide their feelings from prying eyes.

Before Curufin could speak another word his father’s lips were finally against his own, his hand against his neck, holding him securely in place – Fëanáro had never been patient; not that he wanted to flinch though and if, he would only do so to get better access to his father’s tempting lips. Ever so slowly he opened his mouth, teasing Fëanáro to the core, but at the end he allowed the searching tongue inside, kissing back with an insatiable longing – the world around him became hazy, and his already hard length was not unaffected by the fiery kiss.

"Open your eyes and watch, Curufinwë!" Fëanáro whispered hoarsely, almost commanding his son "Look at me when I touch you. Look at you, how you will look with flushed cheeks, being stretched and fucked afterwards. Please,…"

There is no point of disobeying his father’s order – in fact there was never the point in arguing with Fëanáro; Curufin had done so once and he still regretted it despite the fact that the incidence happened long years past. His father’s wrath could be beyond cruel, there were many who could tell their own experience. Hastily, he removed his own robe and to Curufin’s surprise he wore nothing beneath it, making his eyes grow wide in anticipation.

“Atar!” the younger elf chuckled heartily, his hungry eyes roaming over the broad shoulders, the muscular chest which was almost completely hidden behind his own aroused body “You never cease to surprise me!”

“I hope I never will, my love!” his father said almost shyly, gently biting his earlobe until his head fell back once more. “And now come…”

Fëanáro’s hand directed onto the spacious bed whilst he walked away from him in the direction of the spacious bed. His sharp gaze never left the mirror, studying every inch of Curufin’s perfect and aroused body in the reflection. When he sat down in the middle of the bed, on top the silken sheets he ordered him to join – his own body was already set on fire, quivering with need and pure desire for his beautiful son and Curufin obeyed and sat down between his father’s spread legs, his back rested against Fëanáro’s strong chest, his hips pushed forward with bent knees to give the searching hand better access to his most private parts.

When his eyes focused again, he saw his muscular body in the reflection, the hard erection between his thighs, the sparkling desire which was burning in his eyes. For a brief moment their gaze met in the mirror and Curufin shuddered, seeing the same fire of lust burning in Fëanáro’s eyes, absentmindedly he licked his lips in anticipation,

“Spread your legs for me! Wider…” His father demanded in a murmured whisper whilst his lips danced over the slender neck of his lover, nibbling and kissing him carefully not to leave any visible marks behind; he would do that later, in the heat of passion, somewhere nobody could see the treacherous love bite; Fëanáro always did.

“Oh Curvo, it’s a shame that I can’t go down on you today! Just look how tempting you are” his passion-filled voice trailed off when he began to stroke the length tenderly.

“Atya! You look exactly the same when you spread your legs for me” Curufin’s hungry eyes travelled over his father’s perfect, muscular body, hardened from the long days of working in the forge, yet his skin was smooth as silk and so were his hands who danced over his own skin, making him tingly and aroused.

Fëanáro’s lips came once more to a comfortable rest on his lover’s ear, liking a wet trail along the contours before he whispered affectionately “I know my dear!” His fingertips ghosted over the sharp lines of his son’s face as he continued “I know – I see myself when I watch in your face, my son – and I would lie if I’d say it does not thrall me!” The hot breath dancing over his wet ear combined with those loving words, sent numerous shivers down the young elf’s spine, made him tremble in his father’s arms and he did not realize in his aroused state that Fëanáro had stopped to caress his erection.

 

Without warning, an oiled finger was pushed inside him, resulting in a surprised moan – Curufin had not the slightest idea how on earth his father had managed to oil his hand and sneak it under his buttocks without him even noticing; it seemed he had been entirely distracted

“Do you like that?” Fëanáro teased but in truth, Curufin’s reaction to the sudden invasion was actually answer enough.

“Oh yes” he panted, a sly grin hushed over his lips and he closed his eyes, savouring the intimate touch, thinking of what was about to come in a while. The young Fëanorian never got enough of it, it almost drove him insane when he did not know when they could meet again – and at the end of their clandestine meetings they were normally beyond exhausted from their lovemaking, it never stopped after one round.

“No!” Fëanáro breathed against the alabaster skin of Curufin’s neck, demanding almost sharply “Eyes open!”

Without hesitation Curufin’s eyes snapped open, staring at the invading finger through the reflection and he almost automatically spread his legs a little wider and moved his hips until he actually could see how his father’s skillful finger disappeared in his already slick entrance again and again. “Valar…” he stuttered, the mere sight pushed him almost over the edge, to observe how his muscles fought against the slender digit, how it drove in and out, in and out again nonetheless until the contractions stopped. It didn’t take long until the younger elf was moaning violently, seeing and feeling how he was stretched by his beloved Atya!

As a second digit found its way into the tight channel, Curufin’s eyelids fluttered upon the sudden invasion, but he continued to watch himself being stretched by knowing fingers and was rewarded with a nod of approval, followed by a muttered “Good boy.”

Curufin saw that his father was staring at him in the reflection of the mirror, those grey eyes were sparkling with lust and longing, half-lid eyes staring back at him. He could see Fëanáro gently biting his neck, ever so carefully not to leave any visible marks behind, licking a wet trail up to his pointy ear, saw how he threw back his head to his father’s shoulder, with lips slightly parted, moaning and gasping for air. Creation and creator – they were beyond perfection and the fact that they could watch each other through the looking glass brought further excitement to both of them.

Curufin almost couldn’t stand the reflection as his bruised lips fall open, his cheeks flushed in distinct shades of red – embedded in a frame of raven-hair, sweat forming on his forehead – he struggles desperately to control himself, not to flinch from the invasion of the digits but his father’s strong hands keep his hips firmly in place, fondling him with three fingers until he began to moan, pain finally giving way to bliss and beauty. Almost absentmindedly he began to meet the thrusts, rolling his hips against the invading fingers which were buried deep within his pulsating channel, hoping that his sweet spot would be touched – but he had hoped in vain and his desire was simply ignored. “Oh just look at you, Curvo! You cunning little thing, trying to bring yourself pleasure shamelessly.. so impatient, so wanton”

“Please” Curufin mumbled in a hoarse voice with half-lid eyes, panting heavily, watching his stretched entrance contract around his lover’s fingers “do not torture me, please”

“Torture you? Oh no” Fëanáro shook his head, explaining calmly “I would never do such a thing, I could be never cruel to the one I love!”

“But you DO!” he almost screamed, but was silenced with a kiss when his head was roughly pulled back by Fëanáro’s hand which grabbed a fistful of his raven-hair.

Fëanáro mumbled over the bruised lips when they finally broke the fiery kiss “Do I? Than tell what you want, my love and I will stop being cruel” with that said, a finger brushed for mere seconds against the sweet spot and all words Curufin wanted to say were lost in his endless moans and screams of pleasure.

It was nothing more than a sultry whisper “Look at you, Curufinwë – all ready for me to take” he trailed off, seeing his own longing in the reflected image, his flushed cheeks and hungry eyes “So eager, so wanton, so astonishingly beautiful – so ready”

The whispered words and his own wanton need in the reflection nearly undid him, pleaded moans escaped his lips, shameless begs – he couldn’t think any more, hardly breath, lost in his feelings, lost in his wanton need “Yes Curufinwë, I am beyond ready! Take what is yours, claim me, fuck me” Curufin almost screamed in pure need.

“Oh what obscene words spill from the sweet mouth of yours” Fëanáro teased his lover again with his words, pushing his fingers deeper inside the slick and hot channel, scissoring the tight entrance further open.

Curufin was more than properly prepared and even if he wouldn’t have been he was not certain if he could have resisted the urge to be taken roughly. The sinful reflections in the mirror enthralled him, made him watch himself, made – he had never liked this position as he couldn’t see the other whilst they fucked - but now, with the reflections showing him exactly what his father did to him? He was obsessed, intrigued “Atya? Don’t ever dare to remove the mirror, understood?“ The same fire sparkled in his dark eyes which was burning in his father’s eyes and mind.

“Since when are YOU in a position to tell me what to do? On your hands and knees. Now.” he demanded in a tone that did not allow disobedience and he was not disappointed as Curufin obeyed within seconds, lowering his upper body until his chest rested against the silken sheets, bringing his hips shamelessly towards the bobbing erection of his lover.

A nod of approval was followed by words of surprise “Oh even better”

His eagerness was rewarded instantly as a strong hand ghosted over his buttocks, kneading them gently until it came to a comfortable rest on his hips. “Atya? Please … “ his pleading eyes looked back at him from the mirror, observing how his father coated his thick shaft with oil, stroking the hard flesh in a frantic rhythm.

Before he could spin his musing any further, he was taken in one thrust, his muscles contracted around the erection as a result of the sudden invasion, combined with a sharp cry. Curufin clenched his hands into the silken sheets; he bit his lips, trying not to make so many noises but it was simply impossible when his lover made him feel so good.

“Oh I love the sounds you make” he whispered, smiling. Curufin was never silent during their clandestine meetings; if Fëanáro wanted him silent, he had to take precautions, otherwise the young elf would wake up the entire city with his cries of pleasure. But when they were alone, like they were today, he simply loved those moans of passion, those noises he elicited from his son’s lips – it made him proud beyond measure.

Fëanáro stilled for a moment giving his lover a moment to adjust to him, watching his wide grey eyes in the mirror, see how his hands travelled over the perfect skin of his back. A single finger travelled up and down the spine, making his entire body shiver. “You are so beautiful, my love” the words were just a stir of air as his father’s lips hovered over his shoulder, the movement of bending forward pushed him even deeper inside the hot channel.

“So are you” he panted under his sharp breath “so are you … so perfect” The young Fëanorian felt as if he was almost exploding from inside, feeling the pulsating heat against the stretched entrance of his hole. His body was on fire from the sensation of Curufinwë fucking him. In front of a mirror, forcing him to watch himself come undone.

Strong hands came to a comfortable rest on his hips, holding him in place when he began to move, withdrawing inch by inch only to push back in the same slow pace giving his son the perfect opportunity to watch – and Curufin couldn’t avert his eyes from his beautiful lover. Their lust-darkened eyes met through the reflection and he could see the hard length sink deep within his channel only to appear seconds later.

“Atya! Do not torture me … this slow pace is driving me insane” with the next thrust Fëanáro aimed for the sweet spot which he had ignored until now and a sharp cry left his son’s lips “Good, my love!”

After that he was setting a brutal pace and it didn’t take long until Curufin’s back was decorated with numerous scratches and bruises, but the young elf couldn’t care less, his mind and body was exploding by the frantic movements and he began to see stars. As he closed his eyes in bliss Fëanáro didn’t move for a while, grabbing a handful of raven strands in his fist instead and practically forced Curufin’s head up again to look into the mirror, to look into his lust-darken eyes, upon his loosely open jaw, those tempting wet lips. “Curufinwë ..” the younger elf panted, before his words were lost in the sounds of pleasure as Fëanáro began to move again deep within him.

The sinful reflection from the mirror was assisted by endless groans and the distinct sounds of their frantic coupling. Both elves moaned and gasped in unison, savoring the passion they found in their forbidden act of love, watching each other in the mirror.

„I love you Curufinwë” Fëanáro screamed hoarsely and aimed with every thrust at the sweet spot, watching the trembling body of his lover in the mirror; he knew he wouldn’t last long anymore, increasing the pace once more, forcing his erection brutally into the abused channel again and again, biting Curufin’s shoulder until he could feel the subtle taste of blood against his lips.

“Aiii! So do I, Curufinwë – I can’t live without you anymore! I cannot and I do not want” the younger one screamed against the silken sheets, seeing his father’s head fall back in pure bliss – passion he found whilst he was fucked into oblivion by his own father. *Oh dear gods* he could feel his body being opened for thick pulsating cock, feel his tingling entrance swallow the thick length greedily – all he could do was to moan and cry until he was short of air, rolling his hips shamelessly against Fëanáro to meet every thrust until he couldn’t take anymore, whimpering and moaning, screaming his lover’s name in passion when he finally came undone “Cuuuruuuuufinwë”

Curufin gazed at his own reflection as he came hard in Fëanáro’s hand - panting with hot breath against fabric, able to see himself so wrecked and ruined.

They climaxed at the same time under flickering candle-light, their heated body painted in golden shades, each screaming the other's very same name in blissful pleasure, watching their lust-stricken faces in the reflection with hazy eyes before Fëanáro finally collapsed atop of his exhausted son, panting heavily, riding the beautiful minutes of their orgasmic aftermath together. He stayed buried deep within him for some more, long moments and rode out his orgasm with a few shallow thrusts into the slick channel, whispering hot-breathed non-sense into Curufin’s ear “Oh you are so beautiful my love”, watching his son’s wrecked body in the reflection.

Fëanáro could not wait when he would be able to see their naked bodies dance on the reflective surface again, he never wanted to let go of Curufin, wanted to hold him, cherish him until the end of the world. They simply looked perfect together and the mirrors only highlighted this perfection, his hands found their way into the raven hair, playfully caressing the dark strands of his lover. “Oh I love your hair, it’s so smooth, like silk .. like mine”

It didn’t take long until Curufin’s mind drifted off under the soft caresses, falling into the beautiful post-orgasm slumber but his sleep was interrupted by his father’s strong voice “Don’t!” he demanded, bringing his sleepy son back to reality “I am not done with you yet, Curufinwë!”

 

_Take away the wine for restlessness plagues me_  
_I am assailed by a specter profounder_  
_Than hatred and grief or the sum of their hideous crime_  
  
_I shalt suffer this confessional of mine_  
_Awaiting the sun to set, crimsoning seas_  
_Only once it is dark doth my misery cease_

_~Cradle of Filth – Malice through the looking glass~_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Atar, Atya = Father  
> \---  
> not beta-read - all remaining mistakes are mine
> 
> ..and feedback is - as always - highly appreciated :)


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